


Hay Fever

by objectlesson



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Body Worship, Butch/Femme, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Good Old Fashioned Pussy Eating, Hurt/Comfort, Lightning is a Little Bitch, Mommy Kink, She Also Has Allergies, Sickfic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/objectlesson/pseuds/objectlesson
Summary: “Why’re you so determined to push me away, huh?” Doc asks in a low voice then, clambering onto the bed, bracketing Lightning’s body between her knees and bending down to kiss the top of her head. Her hair is oily and unwashed, and it smells fiercely likeher,not her perfume or her lotions but her sweat, her sleep, her body. It’s dizzyingly good, that undiluted huff, so she stays there for a minute, face buried in greasy blonde. “Bet I could make you feel better, baby girl,” she murmurs after awhile.Or, Lightning is pouting, Doc takes care of her.
Relationships: Doc Hudson/Lightning McQueen
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	Hay Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Teehee my favorite cars anon sent me a request for some Lesbian Doc McQueen smut and I've really been missing my gals sooooooo I cranked this out!!! In like an hour!!! It is unedited sorry. Also hey tag wranglers when is mommy kink gonna be an official tag??? inquiring lesbians want to know.

Lightning has been insufferable for _days_ now. Ever since she got the news the remainder of the spring season was cancelled due to inclement weather she’s been moping around Doc’s house in her sweats and the same ratty, dirty tank top. To add insult to injury, it’s also her first spring in town, and she’s not used to the pollen variants in the desert so her allergies have been absolutely atrocious. She keeps waking Doc up with sneezing fits in the middle of the night, followed by long, exhausted, irritated groans. 

Doc gives her a hard time, but she’s too in love to be properly angry about any of it. She thinks Lightning is cute with her red, puffy eyes, and although getting repeatedly startled to full alertness just as she starts to drift off isn't great for her old heart, it’s just a reminder she has a _girl_ in her bed for the first time in twenty some odd years, so. None of it bothers her too much. 

Lightning, on the other hand, is hell-bent on being miserable. “I just feel useless. Like. All that training, a waste,” she mumbles from where she’s still tangled up in the sheets even though it’s nearly noon. She blows her nose, eyes streaming. “I’m gonna have to maintain for like, a month, but I can’ even train properly here because go the stupid cactus pollen. I can’t breathe.”

“Good thing your crew chief is a doctor,” Doc reminds her, tossing the package of Claritin onto the bed. “I brought more from the clinic so you can stock up.” 

Lightning whines wordlessly, making a face. “I know that stuff isn’t supposed to make me drowsy, but I still _feel_ drowsy.” 

“It’s in your head,” Doc says firmly. “You know, if you quit shooting down every suggestion I make, maybe you’d feel better. It’s like you _want_ to be a little bitch about this.” 

She frowns, blinking her swollen eyes for a few seconds before replying. “Shit. M’sorry, Doc, I know you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m making it tough, But this--this is how I _am,_ when I’m sick or depressed or whatever. I told you that you’re eventually gonna find something about me that’s too much work or too annoying deal with and dump my ass.” 

Doc rolls her eyes, because Lightning could kill someone and she’s pretty sure she’d just help her hide the body. There’s nothing on God’s green earth this girl could do to get rid of her. “Why’re you so determined to push me away, huh?” she asks in a low voice then, clambering onto the bed, bracketing Lightning’s body between her knees and bending down to kiss the top of her head. Her hair is oily and unwashed, and it smells fiercely like _her,_ not her perfume or her lotions but her sweat, her sleep, her body. It’s dizzyingly good, that undiluted huff, so she stays there for a minute, face buried in greasy blonde. “Bet I could make you feel better, baby girl,” she murmurs after awhile. 

Lightning makes a plaintive whimpering sound in the back of her throat. “I’m too gross to fuck. I can’t even _kiss,_ remember last night when we were making out in the kitchen and I literally sneezed into your mouth? I’m disgusting.” 

“Stop,” Doc says, pinching her in the side. “You're perfect. Plus, just because you can’t go down on me doesn’t mean I can’t go down on you,” she reminds her, pulling back so that their gazes can lock. 

Lightning squirms, which she likes. “I haven’t showered in forever.” 

“Mmhm,” Doc says, licking her lips. “You know I like you dirty.” 

There’s a moment of tense quiet where Lightning won’t meet her eyes, instead boring holes into the bed and chewing her lip thoughtfully, knees se-sawing back and forth under the covers in contemplation. “I do sort of feel like being spoiled,” she mumbles. “Like. You _know_ I’m not a pillow princess but when I’m sick like this all I want to do is sort of lay back and be eaten out.” 

Doc curls her arms around her thighs and hauls her down the bed in a single motion, making her squeak. “You can ask for my mouth whenever you want it, you know that, baby,” she promises, gazing down at Lightning, her sudden breathlessness, her dirty hair strewn over the sheets, her chest heaving so that her soft, palm-sized tits shift under that threadbare tank top she’s still wearing, nipples visible since she’s not wearing a bra. She’s the most gorgeous thing, and Doc _loves_ her like this, human and imperfect and selfish and raw. She leans down, presses her lips to the shell of Lightning’s ear. “You just lie hear and let me take care of that pretty little pussy, alright?” she huffs out, voice low, loaded. 

Lightning mewls, body tensing beneath her, hips rolling in anticipation. “Damn, you’re so easy,” Doc tells her, reaching down to tug the sheets off her legs so that she can touch them, palming up and down the rough golden stubble, squeezing her strong calves, her soft thighs. “Bet I could make you dripping wet just talking in your ear like this.” 

“Probably,” Lightning answers with fake nonchalance. Doc knows it's fake because her voice is shaking, high and breathy in that way it only gets when she’s turned on. 

So, she kisses her neck, licks over the cords of it and sucks a little mark into her throat until Lightning is groaning, humping the air. Doc isn’t often awarded the luxury of getting to mark her girl up, but since the season is cancelled Lightning doesn't have to make any public appearances until the summer, so Doc is free to collar her in hickeys, so she does. “That pale skin,” she murmurs as she darkens it, loving how the red gives way to dappled purple if she uses her teeth. “So easy to bruise up. All mine.” 

“Doc,” Lightning whines, spreading her thighs and shifting around so she can straddle her leg and grind down against it. Doc presses up into the molten heat and laughs breathlessly at Lightning’s subsequent moan, the stricken, hungry look in her eyes. “I’m wet,” she admits. 

“I know you are. I can feel it. Just from my lips on your throat. Just from telling you everything I’m gonna do to you, how long I’m gonna lie there between your legs, teasing that pussy,” Doc breathes, reaching down and shoving her hand under the curve of Lightning’s ass, squeezing it in rough, greedy palmfuls. “Why don’t you take these off so I can taste you?” 

Lightning’s face crumples in longing as she wiggles out of her stained sweats so that she’s in nothing but her underwear. She usually wears sporty boxer briefs, but she hasn’t done laundry in forever so she’s down to her worst pairs, the stretched out Target panties she keeps around for when she’s on her period. This particular pair is a faded peach color and riddled with holes, and her gold public hair is poking out, delectable as it catches the light. Doc peels back to stare before she rubs her thumb over the puffy little mound, hooking her finger into the holes to play with the overgrown curls. Lightning tends to trim her pubes down pretty short, but they’ve gone to the wayside like everything else has, and Doc’s mouth waters at the thought, how her scent must be trapped in the hair, how soft it’s gonna feel for her to bury her face in. “God, my dirty girl,” she murmurs, tugging the crotch of the panties to the side so she can look at her, the dusky folds obscured in copper hair. “Open yourself up so your mommy can see how pink you are inside.” 

And, as usual, the second Doc calls herself _mommy_ and brings that element out onto the table, Lightning loses her goddamned mind. Doc gets to watch her cunt actually _throb_ as she writhes, a spasm rippling through her in time with the broken, desperate moan, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as a blush spills down her neck. “Pease, lick me, mommy, _please,”_ she whimpers, long fingers with her blunt athlete’s nails coming down to push the hair aside so she can part her own slit, reveal her slick, shiny insides to Doc like a buffet. “I’m so wet.” 

“Mmm. My little girl is so fucking pretty,” Doc murmurs as she gets down on her stomach between Lightning’s legs, roughly tugging the crotch of the panties to the side. “Touch your clit, show your mommy where you want her tongue.” 

Lightning gasps as she does it, rubbing over the swollen nub gently, teasingly, almost _shyly_ which is absolutely an affectation because Doc _knows_ how slutty she gets, how hungry, how much she’s capable of demanding. That’s one of the nice things of taking on this role: she so rarely gets to see Lightning let her guard down and relinquish _control._ She’s vulnerable when she calls Doc mommy, and it’s a relief to have her like this, spread and wanting and not worried about the ways in which she perceives herself as imperfect. “You smell so good,” Doc promises, inhaling deeply before she pushes her face into the slippery, musky mess of her cunt. “God. Taste even better. Like heaven.” 

Doc so rarely gets her like _this,_ too. No matter how many times she tells Lightning she doesn’t care when she last showered or if she’s still sweaty from training, Lightning likes to be clean, and groomed, and put together even if she’s only going to be taken apart. It’s like she doesn't fully trust that Doc loves her, loves her dirty and loves her wrecked and loves her ruined. Luckily, Doc is patient, and knows how to wear down her resolve so she _gets_ exactly what she wants. 

She flicks her tongue over her clit, swirling it in circles and then back and forth, touch light and wet and teasing for a few seconds until Lightning is _desperate,_ grinding her cunt hungrily into Doc’s lips until she relents, opening up, sucking on her. And this is exactly what she wants: a flooded mouth, musk and spice and salt and sweat and metal. She’ll take Lightning always and under any circumstances, even freshly washed and shaved straight out of the shower so everything is pink and delicate and porn-perfect, but this-- _this_ is so much more visceral, so much more stomach-turning, heart-breaking. She doesn’t taste like soap, she tastes like _girl,_ like all of Doc’s memories of thighs around her neck and a clutching madness around her fingers crystalized and immortalized in a single, glorious moment. This is what sex is, to Doc: dirt and the relentless crash of the sea. She loves Lightning, and so things are _best_ when she gets all of her. 

She licks down to her slit and pushes her tongue up inside her, fucking the slick clench of her hole where she’s slickest and saltiest, curling her free hand up over her thigh to play with her clit, loving the sounds she makes, the wanton buck of her hips. When she pulls back Lightning is gasping, and the relentless tremor of it fills the room. “You still breathing, baby?” she asks idly, thumbing up and down her folds, gaze fixed on the violent red-pink of her split and puffy and gorgeous. 

“Yeah, barely, but--yeah,” Lightning pants, hands idly rubbing her own tits, pushing them together. “Jesus _christ_ how do you feel so good?”she whimpers. 

Doc laughs and it comes out a low, complacent rumble. “My little girl just loves having her pussy licked,” she teases between pressing firm, hungry kisses to her clit. “And lucky for her I love to lick it. Such a pretty, needy, messy pussy,” she adds, rubbing her chin into the slickness, heart clutching at how _swollen_ everything feels, how easy it is to work Lightning up like this. “All mine to suck on.” 

“Ugh, Mommy, please,” she begs, rocking her hips, reaching down and fisting in the collar of Doc’s flannel, dragging her back down by it. “Lick me more?” 

Doc gets to work again, this time with every intent of bringing Lightning off. She wants her shaking and over-stimulated and destroyed, she wants to get her so that she’s begging for it again, coming so many times she forgets what she was in such a rotten mood in the first place. So, she spreads her lips with her fingers and mercilessly sucks her clit, working her over until finally, her body locks up and she cries out, cunt spasming in hungry pulses against her chin. “That’s it, baby girl, give it to me,” Doc murmurs as she eases two fingers up inside her to feel the rhythmic clench. “So good.” 

“Oh my god,” Lightning groans after she catches her breath, sinking into the sheets bonelessly. “How--you’re _magical,_ that like... _cleared my sinuses?_ I can breathe.” 

“Orgasms help with congestion, supposedly,” Doc says, shrugging as she pumps her fingers in and out, crooking them deeper each stroke just to watch Lightning jerk. “Not medically _proven_ but certainly my favorite home remedy.” She bends her head to tongue lightly over her clit, sweet, delicate kitten licks just to test if she’s ready to go again. 

“C’mere so I can kiss you,” Lightning slurs, eyes wide and pupil dark as she gazes down at Doc, spots of color on her cheeks. 

“Nah, not yet,” she replies, shaking her head, shifting bak a bit so she can roll Lightning’s panties down her hips. Once they’re off and she tosses them aside, she arranges her how she wants her, spreads her wide and pushes her knees up to her chest so she can see everything, reach everything. “M’just getting started, baby girl. You just lie back.” 

Lightning smiles at the ceiling, and does as she’s told. 


End file.
